Note: Still no notifications other than on the app.

Chapter Twenty

You Oughta Know

Tony slowly drifted back to consciousness. His body ached, and he felt as if he'd been run over by a Mack truck. His mind was full of cotton wool, and he couldn't seem to grasp onto a single thought. He equated the feeling with being really hungover or on pain meds. His chest was so heavy, simply breathing took most of his attention. His muddled mind took a few moments to recognize whose skin he was in. He was Tony, not Cody. It always took a few days after being undercover to remember who he was – or who he was supposed to be.

He could sense there was someone else in the room with him, but it took a few moments to register who.

Gibbs.

Tony processed all this in his mind, yet to open his eyes. Bits and pieces of memories and conversations were coming back to him, scattered and in disarray. He hated the pain meds because he tended to lose large chunks of time, and he loathed that loss of control.

"I know you're awake, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly.

It would have been funny – Tony refusing to look at him like a petulant teenager – if he didn't recall the reason he felt so on edge. A foggy memory materialized in full, blazing detail – Ziva and Tim weren't paying attention. They'd been in the club so he'd have back up, to be aware if there was trouble, but they'd slacked off. Even though they knew they were dealing with killers, they weren't paying attention.

It didn't really surprise him that Ziva would do something like that – particularly if Gibbs wasn't there to witness it – but McGee? He knew things were strained between them since the Mossad expert-of-all-things infiltrated their team, but enough to risk his life? Tony thought they were friends.

Then again… he'd considered Danny Price a friend, too. And Wendy… she'd been more than a friend, so he supposed he must really suck at judging anyone close to him. Had it always been this way? What about the relationships he thought he had with his frat brothers? His old basketball team? Ducky… Abby…

Gibbs.

That produced a sharp pain that had nothing to do with his injuries.

He really wasn't ready to talk about it, confront it, but he knew Gibbs' impatience wouldn't allow him to retreat. Before he was able to bring himself to open his eyes and face his hotheaded boss however, an urgent voice sounded from the doorway.

"Agent man, Agent man. A woman is down in the ER right now looking for Cody Redman. I thought you ought to know."

Tony heard Gibbs push his chair back, and he sensed the movement beside him. He cracked his eyes open to see a heavy nurse standing in the doorway, the white of her eyes stark against her dark skin because she'd opened them so wide.

"Get Security up here," Gibbs barked.

The nurse nodded. "I can do that. You go. I don't think she'll be there long. I'll stay with your partner until Security gets here," she said reassuringly.

Gibbs only hesitated a moment before dashing off. That signaled to Tony that Gibbs trusted this nurse. He didn't recognize her, and after hearing how his own partners didn't even have his six, he wasn't inclined to trust anyone just yet. He wished he had his service weapon. Thin lines of perspiration formed on his brow and upper lip.

The nurse moved closer, picking up the telephone on the nightstand to ask Security to come up, pronto.

Tony opened his eyes as fully as he could, wanting to keep a close watch on her. He reached for his nose, hating the feeling of the tubing there. She noticed immediately and gave him a warm smile, although she firmly pushed his hand away from the cannula.

"Ooh, I love all this secret agent man stuff. It's like being in a movie. Your partner, he got all huffy with me when he brought you in, but I straightened him out. Told him he didn't want to be on my bad side, and neither do you," she said, still smiling.

Tony had no clue who she was, or when all this supposedly happened. He watched her closely, trying not to reveal his apprehension.

"There's nothing wrong with your head. You were unconscious when we met. I work in the ER, but I remembered you two. Not everyday we get secret agents with different names coming through, you know. I remembered that Cody Redman was really Anthony, but for the life of me, I can't remember your partner's name," she said, patting his leg reassuringly.

Tony relaxed slightly. Even though he didn't know her, he didn't get any threatening vibes. In fact, he kind of liked her.

"You like movies?" he asked, throat dry and sore.

"Oh, I love movies," she said, reaching over and helping him to take a sip of water. "Especially spy movies. Have you seen that Tom Cruise one with the red or blue pill? Fun stuff."

Tony grinned. "I have… seen that one. Do you like… James Bond?"

She looked right at him with raised eyebrows. "Only if Sean Connery plays him," she said matter-of-factly.

Tony's grin grew. "I think you're… the nurse… of my dreams. I'm Tony."

"Roberta. That's right, your partner said you didn't like to be called Anthony," she said.

"He did?" Tony asked, surprised that Gibbs noticed.

She nodded. "He did. Seemed very worried about you, too. Came in bossing all the staff around."

"That sounds… like him. He bosses… everyone around, especially me," Tony said, relaxing.

"You're finding it hard to breathe because of those broken ribs and the pressure on your lungs. I don't work on this floor, but I can get a nurse who does to give you something to relieve the pain. It'll make breathing easier," she said.

Tony shook his head, wincing. "No! S'alright. Makes me… loopy," he said, alarmed by the thought being alone and unaware.

He needed to be alert. Even though he wasn't sure what was going on, he knew there had to be a damn good reason Gibbs was here every time he awoke rather than looking for the bad guys.

"If that's what you want, but if it gets too much, you let me know," Roberta said in that calm, soothing voice she had.

She was comforting, nonthreatening of his desire to remain vigilant. "What other kinds… of movies do you… like, or is it just… spy movies?" he asked.

"Oh no, I like romances, too. If it's a spy movie with a juicy romance – all those secrets and lies – even better," she said, beaming.

It was if she'd dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

"The only spy… I know would be more likely… to slit your throat… than begin a romance," he said darkly.

"Well, just a rom-com then, how about that?' she asked calmingly.

"Something tells me… you like the sappy stuff, Roberta," Tony said, trying to lighten up and shake off his dark thoughts. It wasn't Roberta's fault, and she really was being good to him.

She laughed, a deep timbre that shook her whole frame. "Oh, you've pegged me right. I do. I do love a sappy, happy ending. I see enough heartache around here."

A security guard appeared at the door, rapping his knuckled twice before entering. He was an older guy with salt and pepper hair and a Magnum mustache. He had dark, flinty eyes, and they were narrowed at Tony.

"You're Anthony DiNozzo," he said, and it was more a statement than a question. "I've been assigned to stay with you until an FBI agent arrives."

Tony tried to sit up, but his ribs screamed in protest, blurring his vision, and leaving him gasping. This guy said he was security, but Tony didn't want to be prostrate, just in case. His heart rate increased, the monitor started beeping, and his breathing became more labored.

Roberta stopped him from rising, gently pushing him back onto the pillows, and keeping her hand firmly on his shoulder.

"He is, but he likes to be called Tony," she said, answering for him.

The guard nodded, remaining silent. He folded his arms across his chest and stood in the doorway, half in, half out of the room. Tony felt agitated, unreasonably tense with the unknown guard there. He kept looking around the room, searching for other threats, and he wasn't sure what was wrong with him.

Roberta must've noticed his distress. "I think I'll stay right here a bit until your partner returns. How about if I find something on this television for us to watch?" she asked.

"FBI?" Tony asked suddenly, registering what the guard said. "What did you… say? We don't work… for the FBI."

Technically, they were working with them, but Gibbs would never call himself FBI. Even Roberta turned to look at the guard questioningly.

He didn't seem fazed by the scrutiny. "I don't know. We got a call to come up here, then while I was enroute, my radio said there would be an FBI agent coming to relieve me. I wasn't to leave until then."

His posture indicated that no matter what Roberta and Tony said, he wasn't going anywhere. It was exactly what a good security detail should do, but Tony still felt unsettled. He should tell Roberta she could go. He didn't need a babysitter, but for some reason, he felt better that she was there. The guard stepped fully outside the room, his back still visible through the open door.

"How about that tv show. I wouldn't mind getting to watch a bit with you while I'm on my break," Roberta said, looking at his chart. "It doesn't say that you can't have some ice cream. What do you think?"

Tonys realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, probably at the diner right before his last shift at the Vault began. He should be starving, but the thought of food made him feel ill.

"TV is good," he said, feeling bad he was taking up her break. Surely there was something else she'd rather be doing. "You can have… my ice cream."

She turned the tv on and flipped through a few channels. There wasn't much on at this time other than talk shows or game shows. She finally settled on the Price is Right. It reminded Tony of being home sick as a kid, shut away inside his solitary bedroom so he couldn't spread any germs.

He wasn't sure exactly how much time passed, Roberta chatting happily about the foolish guesses some of the contestants made. He felt sleep tugging at him again, but he refused to give into it, instead concentrating on the sharp, incessant pain in his ribs and left hand to keep him awake. The guard never said another word. Usually, Tony would've tried to engage him in conversation, but he really didn't feel like talking, either.

The FBI agent who eventually arrived was Tina, and Tony relaxed. She had snow in her hair and on her coat, but she smiled when she saw him.

She showed the security guard her badge. "Thank you for staying with him. Any trouble?"

The guard shook his head, nodding to all of them, before he went on his way.

"I'm Roberta. I work down in ER, and I need to have to get back. I've been too long on my break, but I wanted to see an FBI agent – and a lady one to boot. I thought Tony was FBI, but he said he wasn't," Roberta said, smiling.

Tina glanced at Tony, amused. "I'm Tina. Tony and Gibbs work for NCIS, but we're working a joint investigation."

"NCIS? Can't say I know that one," Roberta said, speaking to Tina as if Tony wasn't even in the room.

He'd had enough of that. "Sorry about… that. We work for… Naval Criminal… Investigative Service."

"Ooh, the Navy. I do love a man in uniform. Do you wear a uniform, Tony?" she asked hopefully.

Tina covered her smile with her hand.

"No, ma'am. I'm a… civilian," Tony said.

Roberta patted his foot. "Too bad. You take care of yourself, now. Nice to meet you," she said, waving at Tina before heading back to the ER.

"What happened?" Tony asked as soon as she left.

Tina removed her coat and sat down beside him. "Gibbs found Lola Garcia in the lobby, asking about you – or Cody. This morning, McGee found video evidence that she'd visited various hospitals, so they want to talk to her. Gibbs brought her back to interrogation while I came here."

"Why? Why do I… need one of you… with me?" he asked, suspecting the answer.

His pain was now so insistent that he could barely take a breath, his face awash with sweat. It was making it very difficult to concentrate. The mention of McGee's name caused another wound, deeper than the broken bones.

"Because we haven't found any of the people who took you. Not a trace except for Lola. We're hoping she can lead us to them," Tina said, her eyes filled with sympathy.

Tony looked down, focusing on breathing through it.

"I know you heard about Tim and Ziva. They made a mistake, a big one, but I know Tim is desperate to make up for it," Tina said, sensing… or maybe profiling how he must feel.

He didn't respond, keeping his eyes down so she couldn't read them. He didn't have it in him to pretend it didn't matter. He also noticed that she didn't mention Ziva.

"Just Tim?" he asked.

Tina shifted uncomfortably. "I only spoke with Tim this morning," she said, feinting.

Another nurse entered the room, this one Tony knew worked on his floor. He'd seen her earlier that morning. She smiled brightly at both, checking Tony's monitors, and listening to his breathing. Her smile melted into a frown.

"That doesn't sound so good. Are you in a lot of pain?" she asked.

"I'm… fine," Tony gasped as a deep wave swept through his chest like wildfire.

"Don't be absurd," she said, withdrawing a syringe from her pocket. "This is here for a reason, so there's no need to suffer."

She didn't give Tony a chance to refuse and plunged the syringe into his IV before he had time to protest.

Turning to Tina, she said, "That won't take long to work. He's particularly susceptible to it, and I think he waited entirely too long."

Tony felt the relief flooding his veins almost instantly, and his entire body sagged into the mattress with relief. Along with it, however, came the dreaded fog in his brain. Colors suddenly brightened, and the room began to swim, swirling around a drain pipe.

"We were talking about Ziva," Tina said hesitantly, biting her lip.

"She wants me… off the team," he slurred, the words just slipping out. He wished he could call them back, but his mouth wouldn't cooperate.

Blurrily, he watched Tina press her lips together.

"She's up to something, and I think you know it, too. Any idea what?"

A distorted image of Kate appeared in Tony's mind, reminding him of Rule Twenty-eight – when you need help, ask.

Tony needed help, and there was no one at NCIS who could... but there was a reason he shouldn't answer…

"Computer, can't access… Hebrew," he said, fighting the meds that left his tongue too loose. For once, he wished unconsciousness would hurry. "Gibbs not ready… to hear."

/* /* /* /*

Gibbs sat across from Lola Garcia in the FBI Interrogation room. He studied her silently, but the contrasting signals he was getting didn't add up. When he'd apprehended her in the ER waiting room, she panicked, her eyes frantically seeking a way out. She even struggled to get away as he marched her out to his car.

Once they were underway, with Lola handcuffed in the backseat, she relaxed slightly, although her eyes kept darting outside at the passing scenery. Gibbs didn't try to question her because he wanted the conversation recorded. Most perps grew agitated by his silence, and they often began spilling details he hadn't even asked about.

The silence didn't seem to bother her at all, though – not in the car, and not here in Interrogation. In fact, she seemed like a different person. She was slouched in her chair, the anxiety and panic long evaporated. She seemed perfectly content to sit in seclusion for as long as Gibbs wanted to keep her there.

It was pissing him off.

He was never the one who broke first, but today, he needed answers. There were lives – Tony's included – depending on it. He had to try a different approach.

"Why were you looking for Cody Redman?" he bellowed abruptly, leaning over the table into her space.

She jumped, the wariness returning. Eyes wide, she carefully followed wherever he placed his hands. That set off alarm bells of a different kind in Gibbs' mind.

"Well?" he asked.

She jumped again, licking her lips.

"I was trying to find him – to see if he was all right," she said, swallowing thickly.

"So, you knew he'd been hurt?" he asked sharply.

"I- ah- well- no, not really. He just… he left work, and no one knew why," she said, wringing her hands.

"You weren't at the club that night," Gibbs said.

The panic returned to her eyes, and her breathing sped up. She obviously hadn't been prepared for him to counter her claim.

"Who told you he was hurt?" he demanded.

"Uh… I don't know. No one told me," she said.

Gibbs slammed several photos on the table between them, the same grainy images McGee found of Lola in the ERs of different hospitals.

"You've been searching for him all over the city. Who. Told. You?"

Lola flinched, frantically shaking her head back and forth.

"We took your phone when you arrived. It's a burn phone that doesn't belong to you, so we already have grounds to arrest you. Who gave it to you?" he asked.

He was stretching it, but she didn't know that. Tears appeared in her eyes, but she continued to shake her head.

"You know that guy out there who has your phone? He's now tracking all the calls. We're going to find out, and whoever talks first gets the deal," Gibbs said.

"I can't," she said, pleading. "They'll kill me."

Gibbs shrugged indifferently. "I don't think you'll do well in prison."

"Did they kill him?" she asked, tears now streaking her face, leaving messy black lines.

"Did who kill him?"

"Pete and Stephanie," she whispered.

"You think they're capable of murder?"

She nodded slowly. "I know they are. Why else would you be asking all these questions? Cody was a nice guy – one of the only ones."

"Then why did you sell him out?" Gibbs snarled.

This was the first thing he'd said since they arrived that brought her up short, and she reared back. "Sell him out? What d'you mean? I didn't sell him out. I didn't tell anyone he rescued that guy."

"Then why did they hurt him?" Gibbs asked, hoping she'd give more away.

"I don't know!" she cried. "I didn't tell, so when Matt called and told me not to come to work, I thought I was busted. I knew they wouldn't stand for it."

"Yet you didn't warn him?"

She hung her head. "I couldn't. They'd kill me."

"So, better him than you, huh?"

She remained silent, her shoulders shaking.

"How did you know he wasn't Cody Redman?" Gibbs shouted.

He knew this was a dead end. She wasn't the snitch, but he needed to confirm it, and figure out her role in this whole mess.

Flinching, her head shot up. "What? What do you mean? If he's not Cody… who is he? What's going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know. If you knew Pete Warren and Stephanie Lake were killers, why didn't you turn them in?"

"I couldn't. Dave and Matt would kill me. I don't know why they ever got involved with those two. Matt told me to find Cody, that he'd probably be in one of the hospitals. I was supposed to let him know where I found him when he called me back," she said tearfully.

"What does Barrows have on you?" he asked, nodding toward the observation window.

Fornell would realize she wasn't the leak, and they needed to keep looking. Still, there was something else going on here. How was she connected if not through the search for Naval weapons? Why was she so terrified of the bar owner?

"He owns me!" she cried. "He owns all of us, and he hands us out to his high rollers like prizes."

Gibbs managed to keep his face from showing his surprise. Barely. Sex trafficking? He hadn't seen that coming.

"What does he have on you?"

"If I tell you, do you promise you won't use it against me?" she asked.

"I can't promise that until I know what it is, but I will guarantee your protection from Barrows."

She shrugged, as if she was out of options, and she'd given up. "He knows I'm not here legally. He keeps threatening to call ICE."

"And the other waitresses? Same thing?" he asked softening his tone.

She swiped at her face, snorting bitterly. "Not all of them. He said he needed some girls that could actually take the orders without screwing up."

"Do you know who told them Cody was a cop?"

She shook her head from side-to-side. "He's a cop? Oh, no, no, no. Matt and Dave hate cops. Dave doesn't want his business busted. Cody is really a cop… or was a cop? He was really good to me."

Gibbs had the impression that there weren't too many people in her life who'd ever been good to her.

"How are Warren and Lake involved?" he asked.

"I don't know. I don't know why they're there all the time recently. Dave has something else going on with them, but I've never spoken to either except to bring their drinks," she said.

This was a dead end. She didn't know anything about their case, but he did sympathize with her, so he'd do what he could. Dirtbags like Barrows needed to be taught a lesson – painfully.

"Someone will be in, and you'll be given protection," he said, standing.

He met Fornell in the hallway outside the Interrogation room.

"This just gets more and more twisted. We've got potential arms dealing, a terror cell, and now sex trafficking. Not to mention murder, kidnapping, and assault of a federal agent. This is going to be a paperwork nightmare," Fornell said.

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

Fornell sobered and abandoned the Gallows humor. "We have to get the other girls out of there. FBI can handle that."

Gibbs nodded. "Fine – as long there isn't a Navy connection, it's your jurisdiction. The numbers on Lola's phone have to be Barrows and Evans. Does McGee have a fix on them yet?"

"He's working on it," Fornell said.

"If Matt Evans didn't tell her to look for DiNozzo's name as well as Redman's, he couldn't have known it," Gibbs said, alarmed.

"So… the snitch who said he was a cop, didn't identify him. DiNozzo's still a target," Fornell replied.

Gibbs' phone rang, and he absently glanced at the caller ID.

Jenny Shepherd.

"I've got to take this," he said irritably.

"I'll get Lola settled and ask for the names of the other girls. We'll set them up in a safe house until we have Barrows in custody," Fornell said.

Gibbs moved into an empty office and shut the door, sitting behind the desk.

"Gibbs."

"Is your interrogation complete?" Jenny asked without any pleasantries.

"If you knew I was interrogating someone, why are you interrupting me?" he asked, temper flaring.

He hadn't had time to let her know anything about Lola yet, so how did she know? Ziva kept asking both Ducky and McGee questions, so his mind didn't have far to look for the answer. Even after he'd warned her that she answered to him and only him. she'd bypassed the chain of command again. His mood continued to darken.

"Because you haven't been keeping me in the loop as I specifically told you to do," she snarled.

"I just talked to you last night. If you expect me to get these bastards so you can appease the Admiral, I need to do more than chat on the phone," he said, teeth clenched.

"Don't give me that attitude, Jethro. I am the Director of NCIS, and I have every right to know the status of my investigations," Jenny said.

"You do have the status. Nothing's changed," Gibbs snapped.

"I thought you were in Interrogation. Do you have the snitch? You didn't tell me that you'd caught someone."

"Because it's only just happened today, and no, I didn't catch the snitch," Gibbs said.

He could hear her deflating on the other end of the phone and could picture the frustration coloring her face. She wanted to impress the Admiral more than worrying about the potential fact these men had access to Naval weapon designs. It frustrated him to no end. She used to be a good agent, but he it seemed politics corrupted everyone.

"Nothing?" she asked. "She couldn't tell you anything?"

"We have her phone, and McGee is running down her recent calls," he conceded, knowing he'd have to give her something to get her off his back.

"How long do you think this is going to take?" she asked.

"I don't know, Jen. I can't catch them until we get a viable lead, and I'm missing my best man."

"You have Ziva," she said.

"Yeah, and she's done nothing but piss people off. Most of the FBI team won't work with her," he said.

"They won't work with you, either."

"Exactly! That's why I need DiNozzo. Someone has to play nice and get me what I need," he snapped.

"When Agent DiNozzo is released from the hospital, I want you to send him back to NCIS. Internal Affairs needs his deposition regarding his abduction, and he's going to have to complete a Psych Eval," she said.

"We'll handle all that when we get back," Gibbs said, irritation pulsing through him so hard he'd bet his eyes were bleeding.

"He can't work while on medical leave, and I want to keep this moving," she said.

"His mind still works. You said you want it done, then stop slowing it down," he snarled.

"I'll expect you to keep me informed," she said, the cold air coming across the line reaching frigid proportions.

"I will when there's something to tell."

Note: Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

I'm looking for something new to read and coming up empty. I want something meaty to sink my teeth into. My asks are no Tiva, no slash, and no death fics. I'd prefer fix-its, but that one can bend. Any recommendations?

In return, I'll share one of my favorites – Reprieve by Elbeeinthewild.